The Last Month
by vanitybang
Summary: With just a little over a month until her leaving for California, Artemis finds herself to have disconcerting feelings for Dick Grayson. Traught smut. Probably will end up being a multichaptered story.


Whew! This is easily the longest fic I've ever written. I've really been into DC and Young Justice these days. I've always been a die-hard Traught shipper and the lack of fic for them is distressing, but the lack of good smut fic for them is appalling! I've been told I write decent smut, so what else was I to do?

Okay, so just a heads up, this fic does not follow the canon religiously. I've completely ignored the existence of Chalant and Spitfire. I don't like having to stray from the canon, but the choice was to do that or make the characters look like complete assholes. Besides, I would have to deal with the emotional betrayal, yada yada... I'm not up for excusing my choice of pairing - which, to be honest, IMO makes a lot more sense with the characters' personalities and chemistry than what was made canon on the show - so treat it more as a 'what if'. I kept the part where Artemis leaves for California, I just cut Wally out the equation.

YES, IT WILL BE CONTINUED (at least I plan to continue it... though life and motivation may take its toll on me). This is a chaptered story.

Big thanks to hybrid-chan, who was sort of a beta and is responsible for the best line of dialogue in this fic. You'll know when you read it.

This is also my first time writing oral sex. Yeah, just throwing that out there.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Clues**

Admittedly, the picture of Artemis' current situation she imagined from a third-person spectator perspective was worthy of a slight chuckle from the most easily entertained, or a mildly amused rise of the eyebrow from those with the toughest sense of humor.

As the slurred voices and sharp, hysterical laughters exploded behind her from the house's interior, she found herself alone, standing on the tiny balcony attached to it. A set of doors isolated her from the festivities currently ongoing inside. Those included an ungodly amount of drunk, or pretending to be so, people partaking in an ancient earthly custom under the name 'The Game That Always Sounds Like A Great Idea, But Always Ends In Shame And Regret (In The Case That It Isn't Completely Forgotten The Next Morning)', otherwise known as strip poker.

And there she was, gazing at the stars above her with gleaming eyes and twisting a glass of cheap wine in her fingers, probably looking the most cliché she ever had in her entire life. The cool breeze of the August evening grazed her bare shoulders, making her shiver slightly. _Should've taken my sweater before I left_, she thought to herself, continuing her thorough inspection of the night sky's faintly lit darkness.

Artemis gave up on attempting to enjoy the party she was somehow invited to. For the past one and a half months her former classmates had been partying every weekend, still celebrating their graduation (or, more truthfully, excusing their notorious drinking with it). Needless to say, she'd never been very popular in class, let alone school, but she had the questionable luck of being a friend of Bette's, who generally had the power and social status to be able to bring anyone, anywhere she wanted to, ever.

Obviously, at first Artemis was reluctant to go – contrary to all appearances, she did attend a couple of parties of this kind in the past, and, unsurprisingly, she wasn't a fan. Maybe it had something to do with the lack of a pleasant company. But this time she would've been going with Bette, and that meant she would at least know someone in the vicinity. Besides, for one, it had been long enough since the last time she'd been to a party and she was curious to find out whether she'd enjoy this pastime more than she used to. Furthermore, September was nearing mercilessly and that meant her inevitable departure to California. Though she wasn't extremely close-knit with her classmates, the awareness that she would soon leave this place for a pretty large chunk of time caused her to want to spend as much time with the people she met there and make as many memories as possible.

Little did she know, Bette was the the biggest lightweight she'd ever seen, while Artemis, try as she might, struggled to even get a buzz out of the amount of alcohol they were consuming.

Maybe that was why she just couldn't have fun. She'd heard about people who never get drunk, but enjoy going to parties merely to _watch_ people get drunk. Glancing over her shoulder she caught sight of the fat kid being forced to remove his underwear – _tough luck_, she thought, _you should learn how to cheat. Comes in handy. _Having the guy's hairy ass in clear view, she wrinkled her nose. Clearly, she wasn't cruel or sick enough yet to see the appeal of being sober amongst a bunch of out-of-their-minds people. Thank God she managed to sneak out without anyone being particularly invested in her departure.

It seemed as if she had expressed her gratitude to the spiritual entity far too soon when she heard a crack from behind her and a girly, high-pitched voice becoming louder and clearer. God really loved mocking her these days. Artemis sighed inaudibly.

"WOOOAAAH!", the girl's excited scream was close to blowing up Artemis' eardrums as she finally managed to make it past the door. Immediately, the archer felt her new companion's body clasping onto her back and her face and hands burying in her blonde ponytail. With the force she applied to the movement, Artemis' grip on her precious container of red liquid (that she suspected didn't only taste like dishwater, but probably had a majority of its ingredients in common with it) was lost and it flew all the way down from the fifth floor to its demise.

"I love your hair!", the girl exclaimed, following nearly every attempt at communicating with a fit of giggles, no doubt a result of excessive alcohol consumption, "It's so long and... _nice_".

Clearly, the glass being shattered to pieces went unnoticed. Oh well. It's not like Artemis was the only person passing through the balcony tonight – and with her level of sobriety, she would probably be the last suspect to have destroyed that piece of tableware. If anyone cared about a stupid glass, that is.

The girl took a long sniff with her nose buried in Artemis' blonde locks, and she felt simultaneously disgusted and sorry for the girl. "Thanks", the archer uttered through gritted teeth, starting to browse through her options in search of a new haven for her solitude in this house. "Hang in there", Artemis felt her little friend losing balance as she rubbed her face with a huge grin plastered on it. She took another look at what was happening inside (hoping dearly that the pantless deliquent was no longer present, or pantless) and she noticed that the room had emptied out mostly, with the exception of a handful of poorly-liquor-holding individuals that have passed out on the couches and floor.

"Where is everybody?", she asked the girl, who was seemingly less _there_ with every passing second.

After shuffling around a bit as Artemis supported her and letting out a few breathless laughs, she replied, "...Shop... They went to the... shop".

Made sense. From what she could see, the percentage-labelled drinks have mostly run dry.

She dragged the snickering mess of a girl inside and placed her in a somewhat comfortable sitting position against the wall. _What a wasteland_, Artemis thought as she passed through the room and her nostrils filled with the stench of alcohol – undoubtedly the carpet had absored its fair share of it this evening, and she pitied the owner of this flat... whoever they were.

There were a couple rooms upstairs, with a good chance of being occupied... and Artemis wasn't interested in interrupting someone's fun. Thankfully, as she walked down the corridor, she was glad to conclude there were no suspicious noises to be heard. It couldn't have been past two yet, but a lot of people seemed to be done with the party for the night. Artemis approached one of the last rooms – after all, these were the most likely to be vacant – and pressed the handle gently, opening the door as quietly as possible. Hit or miss?

The door made no squeak as it revealed the room with the assistance of faint light coming from downstairs. Miss, although probably the closest to bullseye she would get that night.

Sprawled across the bed was a muscular, yet surprisingly scrawny, distinctly male figure. Clad in a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt with pulled up sleeves and the two top buttons undone, she had to admit he looked attractive, albeit perhaps a little too slick for the occassion. Her eyes travelled up to the mess of black, ruffled hair and what seemed to be a half-developed square jawline, and- oh, dear Lord...

Grayson was at this damn party too.

The little brat followed her even here? Damn this. She couldn't stay here...

The noise downstairs clearly signalized that the company had returned from their expedition, and judging by the sound of glass bottles clanking against each other, they've been successful.

Suddenly, sticking around the smarmy, over-confident little brat didn't seem like such a bad idea – he was a smartass, _and_ a flirt, but all in all, that was better than the lot of drunkards in the making. Either way, he was sleeping like a baby, so she would have to talk to him only in the unfortunate scenario that he wakes up.

She entered the room hesitantly and closed the door, again very carefully. Hadn't the curtains been very poor at doing their job of blocking out light, she wouldn't have been able to make a step. She sat down on the convertible sofa as far away from Grayson as possible, knowing that she wouldn't hear the end of it if he woke up and found out she came exactly here, completely sober and all alone, as if she were specifically looking for _him_. The kid was full enough of himself to believe that.

Speaking of which, to Artemis' pleasant surprise, Barbara was nowhere to be found. She knew she came to the party too, as she'd seen her retreat to a different part of the house with her friends earlier on. Had she known Dick was here as well, it would've been obvious what Barbara was after... _But the poor thing's lying in bed, completely wasted and no Babs around to make her move. Think we can unanimously crown Lil' Babs as The Queen of Missed Opportunities?_, Artemis sneered, watching Dick's serene sleeping face.

Well, being Babs, she probably wouldn't do anything with him anyway. Some people just baffled her with their incurable inability to take what they want.

Artemis kept her eyes glued to the ceiling for a while, before glancing over at the young man beside her. Oh, he looked so helpless just lying on his side, hands curled up into loose fists under his chin, previously neatly gelled hair now grazing his forehead, stuck together in thick strands... There were great things to be done with such an opportunity.

She knew if it was _him_ who found _her_ like this, he _would_.

The possibilities, they were endless! What if she drew on his face? No, that was too obvious. Changing some numbers around on his phone? Not her style. Having him step into a bucket of puke she would collect from one of the other rooms when he wakes up? Required too much set-up, and probably too disgusting to be worth it...

...Oh...

Now that was _perfect_. It was as classy as pranks can get, and it was personal to boot.

_Let's see just how charming you can be when you run around the house naked looking for your clothes this morning, _Artemis smirked devilishly. If she was really lucky, she might even get to see Barbara's expression during the whole predicament. The only problem was execution – she wasn't sure just how heavy of a sleeper he was and whether she could be nimble enough to pull it off. _Well, doesn't hurt to try._ _Worst case scenario, I'll just run out of the room when he starts shuffling_, she pondered, positioning herself in front of the couch and hovering above the deeply asleep boy. Trying to figure out the best way to remove his garments, she reached out and withdrew her hand a couple of times, before deciding that rolling him over onto his back would give her the best access to the buttons she needed to undo.

Very carefully, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed it back ever-so-slightly, expecting gravity to do its job from then on. One of his arms lay across his stomach, so she slid it down his side gently. Glancing up every so often, she made sure he wasn't starting to wake up.

Now that he was lying flat on his back, she had unobstructed access to the buttons. He was facing the ceiling – with his hair drooping down, the shadows created by it made it a little difficult to see his eyes. It reminded her of something.

She hesitated for the last time, and let her fingers do the magic.

Undoing the perfectly sewn buttons put in perfectly sized holes was, to say the least, agonizing. She had to use much more of her strength than she would've liked to to squeeze them through, which ultimately impacted the tenderness of the process. Still, she tried to balance it out with being very slow and precise about her ministrations.

One. Two. Glance up. Three. Only three more left.

Her own patience really surprised her. Usually she would just resort to using brute force, no matter how much the circumstances were against it. But God be her witness, she will prank Dick Grayson, and she will do it hard, even if it meant spending two hours on taking his shirt off.

Four. Five.

...Besides, with each button pulled apart, the material revealed more and more of his toned chest and abs, and as much as she hated to admit it, the task of removing his attire was becoming enjoyable beyond just envisioning his impending embarrassment. Stopping for a couple seconds, she took a glimpse of his face again, partly looking for a sign of regaining consciousness, partly observing some of his other features – she'd never noticed just how long his neck was, and how much more prominent his Adam's apple became over the past three years...

Snapping out of her distraction, she gulped nervously, becoming even more intent on finishing her work here as quickly as possible. Her hands started to tremble, but the sixth button was set free and she exhaled with relief.

She sat down a little more comfortably on the floor, deciding for a short break before removing the shirt from his shoulders. She stared at his motionless silhouette as she planned her strategy. It seemed like the best idea to pull the sleeves down his arms from both sides, and then tug at it from her side so it would slide towards her underneath him. It was probably the safest, and carried the smallest risk of disturbing him enough to end his slumber.

Then again, even that wasn't exactly foolproof. It looked like it was invasive enough to make even heavier sleepers bat their eyelids. Taking off his pants would probably pose a smaller challenge, she could go back to the shirt later – it was much less important anyway.

Artemis looked over to his lower half. She couldn't see much, as the light coming from the nearby streelight illuminated the other side of the room and gave decent vision only on his upper body. The general direction, however, wasn't difficult to pinpoint and she found the buckle of his belt easily. It became undone in a hurry and Artemis wasted no time with the button of his jeans. She reached for the zipper and pulled it down, his perfect body and cute face starting to fade from her memory and-

_Oh God._ _Oh my fucking God._

There was no mistake. No, this was completely unambiguous. There was not a single doubt, because there simply couldn't be.

Artemis could absolutely feel a very warm bulge beneath her palm.

"Guess there's no point in pretending to be asleep any more, is there?", a cheerful voice made way to her ears, but it cracked upon finishing the sentence. (Out of amusement? Embarrassment?)

Still frozen in shock, she looked up at his face. He had what was probably the smuggest grin in the history of smug grins, his eyebrows were raised so high she could see the wrinkles on his forehead and his gaze was half-lidded. Oh, he was so pleased with himself, even though he was the one with the raging erection. She jerked her hand back violently and she could feel the blush on her face blooming as intensely as if it were about to burn through her skin.

"What- when-", jumbled words came out of her lips once the prolonged silence became distressingly awkward. Desperately, she looked for a believable explanation, for a witty retort, a decent insult, _anything, _but every attempt at formulating a sentence died in her throat.

He frowned a little, but still kept on a very entertained expression. "What, did you expect me to just snooze through all of this?", he sounded slightly condescending (and rightfully so), but quickly followed up, "I would've never forgiven myself!".

Of course his sleep would be as shallow as a puddle. It's not like she was unlucky enough, right? His laughter filled the room and caused her to scowl even more. Well, maybe it was time to move countries and change names, and get plastic surgery done on her face...

"Oh, shut up...", to Artemis' own surprise, she managed to spit out a coherent sentence, "I thought it would be a good idea at the time...".

"Relax", he said, wiping a tear from his eye, "Listen, Arty, I'll give you this one for free. Finish what you started, I'll just lie there like I'm still sleeping, if it makes you feel better. I don't care if I have to run around looking for my pants in the morning. This is way too good, I actually _have_ to feel a little sorry for you".

She groaned mentally. He wasn't going to share this story with anyone, that was for sure. It's not like he had that many friends, and he had always been surprisingly discreet regarding anything to do with her for some reason. Aside from Babs and Bette, nobody seemed to care enough to acknowledge the fact that they'd been hanging out together semi-regularly – mostly because since his freshman year he'd been inent on following her around, striking up converstations and attempting to entertain her in various, often remarkably creative, ways. Eventually, though she was skeptical at first, she decided to just roll with it – he proved to be relatively harmless, although why he was so interested in keeping close to her remained a mystery. Three years later, she still heard no declarations of love, no invitations to religious sects, no asking about her secret identity (though if he found out, she was sure he wouldn't tell her), no nothing. It's as if merely interacting with her gave him what he wanted. If that was all it took, she wasn't going to get defensive. Being 'friends', or more aptly, 'weirdly close acquaintances who never got into personal conversations', with a rich mathlete who had a way with words was comfortable and, in the end, pretty damn pleasant.

Either way, a much more pressing matter at hand was the fact that he'd just caught her red-handed undressing him. Though he seemed to realize it was a prank set-up, she was still stuck here and probably would have to react somehow sooner or later. So what was she supposed to do? Stand up, leave, and never talk to him again?

She looked up, hoping his sight would give her an idea or warp her mind towards an existing one. And, oh boy, what a sight he was. Fingers from both hands tangled on his stomach, he lay in a half-sitting position, with his back against one of the arm rests. One of his legs was bent and pressed against the sofa – it made him look strangely nonchalant, despite the fact that said position was adopted by him to create space that he was short of in his groin area. He was oozing confidence.

"You're not drunk, are you?", it was a pretty damn cheap shot and she knew it.

He shook his head. "Tipsy at best", he answered, "Sorry, Artemis, you're at least two hours late if you were planning on taking advantage of my intoxicated state".

She almost rolled her eyes, before remembering she had absolutely no right to insinuate that he's being any more of an idiot than she was. Her reply was a more vivid shade of red flushing her cheeks and her eyes escaping to the side.

"...Why would you want to, anyway?", he carried on, and she was about to reconsider why she was still even inside this room, "Pin me down all you want. I won't scream". Though it became little above a whisper, his voice lost none of the confidence.

It was a ridiculous, outrageous offer and she focused her eyes on him once again to give him a stern talking-to about how much of a brat he was, and that he was out of his mind, and...

Then she saw his expression. The smile lingered, but the teasing amusement he was wearing just a second ago vanished completely. He was serious, and the azure orbs she was now staring into revealed nothing that could imply otherwise. Taking another look over the rest of his frame, she realized that his suggestion suddenly seemed far, far from laughable.

_No, I really shouldn't do it..._ The instanteous guilt caused a question to rise in the back of her head. _Why?_ Why shouldn't she? Because it's not right? What wasn't right about getting freaky with someone at a _goddamned party_, in the privacy of a separate room? Because someone might find out? Nobody cared about her that much, and even if they did, _so what_? Because she's too shy? Maybe, but was there a reason to be? Dick was clearly interested, and she wanted to adhere to his request as well, but... She'd never done anything like this before. A couple of stupid kisses, sure, but it didn't seem like making out was anywhere near where they'd stop tonight.

But it's not like she wasn't curious. Being eighteen with little to no sexual experience can make you particularly eager to try many things, as you catch yourself staring at bodies and people in an unusually dirty way, wondering how it feels to touch them and, especially, to be touched...

He wasn't half-bad looking either, and she was in such a hopeless pinch – what was there to lose?

Artemis couldn't believe it herself, but she rose from the floor. Seeing a sudden glimpse of uncertainty pass through his face made her regain a tiny bit of her own spirit – he wasn't sure whether she was about to hit him, turn around and leave, or actually oblige. Observing him intently as she straddled him turned out to be even more interesting. There was a spark of excitement dancing in the blue of his eyes that made her blush and nibble on her lower lip in anticipation – she placed her hands on his shoulders, not entirely sure what to do.

He used his own hands as encouragement – he slid them up Artemis' thighs, and let his fingertips graze at the skin underneath her top. The tension of her muscles did not escape his attention, so his face lit up with an encouraging smile, "Feel free to move, or we're not gonna accomplish anything, you know".

She considered getting into a word fight with him, but that wasn't the most captivating matter at hand. Slowly starting to move her palms around, she decided to complete the task of removing his shirt that was stopped halfway earlier – who knew she would be doing it with his full consent and approval? The sleeves slid down his arms, and he lifted them to toss the article of clothing aside. The action caused him to lean in slightly, his lungs filling with the scent of night air, a difficult to identify alcoholic drink and a tint of fresh, citrusy perfume. With his eyes at the level of her chin, the sight of Artemis' full lips reminded him of all the times when he imagined how soft they would've felt pressed against his...

With her hands wrapped around his back, he softly cupped her face with both hands and pulled her closer, trapping her in a full on embrace when their lips met. Though at first slightly surprised, she gave in when he started biting down lightly – the knot in her stomach tightened and she felt a faint dizziness in her head. His enthusiasm shone through his actions – the force he employed into every movement, though controlled, balanced on the edge of endearing playfulness (which was cute) and asserting dominance (which turned her on more than she'd care to admit). Granted, she did not make out with a whole lot of people before, but Dick seemed like the first one to know what he was doing... Was he actually more experienced than her, or merely faking it and going with the flow?

Either way, he was doing a fine job... he was doing a damn good job. When his tongue smoothly made way inbetween her lips, she gladly reciprocated, feeling a little more secure. She could sense his grip loosening and his hands sliding down her sides, hips and thighs – every place he was about to touch itched with impatience and she arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest in sync with his actions.

She broke the kiss with a desperate gasp for air. He did the same, revealing that his own face adopted a rosy color. Artemis felt him shuffling around, realizing that in the place where she was sitting, she was just barely nudging the bulge in his pants with her ass. Pushing himself up on his elbows slightly and positioning the source of his discomfort more directly beneath her looking for any kind of friction, she had it made clear to her just how aroused he was. He made no attempt to conceal it with his expression either, looking up at her with widened eyes and parted lips, breathing a little louder and faster than usual.

"Wow... I really have to ask", she breathed, bewildered, "I didn't even _touch_ you when I was... taking off your clothes. How did you get so...", she paused, searching for an appropriate word, "..._happy_ back there?".

He burst into laughter. "Well, you know", he started, calming down after getting stared down on by his already-ashamed-enough companion, "For one, it's not everyday that you wake up to the sight of a girl undressing you", that statement alone seemed like a valid explanation, but he wouldn't be himself if he didn't at least _try_ to be a charmer. "_Especially_ if that girl is Artemis Crock."

She snorted in that mellow, flustered-but-amused way and couldn't help cracking a smile. So he had a boner for her all along? That's one mystery solved. Not that she minded. You can't go wrong with someone whose company you enjoy, who also happens to be physically attractive, having a boner for you. Why he was interested in her in particular, on the other hand, was a whole different story, as she never considered herself to be one of those universally gorgeous girls. More of a niche flavor – while her physique was rather attractive, she was always doing her best to look as unapproachable as possible, a perpetual disinterested frown on her face, wearing her hair (arguably her biggest asset) in a low ponytail for practicality's sake and almost never bothering with make-up much... Dick Grayson, however, fit squarely into the convention of an attractive young man – piercing blue eyes, symmetrical, easy-on-the-eyes facial features, very athletic, always cleaned up and well-dressed, clearly concerned about his appearance. Perhaps he wasn't doing it for others as much as himself. Maybe he just had an unique taste. It didn't matter anyway... If it were anyone else, she'd be more suspiscious than curious, but he was peculiar enough anyway for his slightly uncommon preferences to not make an especially huge impact on Artemis.

"I bet you're glad to have that smart mouth of yours", she moved a little more of her weight to her lower body and started grinding slowly against his arousal, beginning to feel an urge as well. With one of her eyebrows raised in satisfaction, she watched his lip tremble in response, "Everyone would know how big of an idiot you are if it wasn't for it".

His chuckle resembled a moan way too much for it to be an accident. "Oooh, how exciting", he retorted in a similiarly provocative tone, "Your snark is coming right back. Thought I'd never hear it from you again".

Even though he teased her about it, she knew he was happy about her confidence returning. As much fun as seeing her caught red-handed and get all embarrassed must have been, his suggestion included getting overpowered by her – and she wasn't about to let it go, either.

"Hey, I know you're calling the shots, but I think you should take something off, too...", he said meekly, evidently faking over-the-top submissiveness for her pleasure, "...if you'd be so kind as to consider my proposal".

"Don't push it", she continued the banter, reaching for the edges of her top and pulling it over her head, revealing a plain white bra.

As it fell to the ground, she felt him quickly get closer, shackling her in his arms loosely. Expecting him to fool around for a little longer, her reaction to his hand creeping to the clasp of her bra was significantly delayed.

"Easy now, hotsho-", her attempt at taunting him fell short when he effortlessly unhooked the piece of underwear in a swift move. She tensed immediately, pressing her arms hard against her sides so he couldn't just make it slide down. Weren't guys supposed to be bad at this stuff?!

"What was that?", he casually put on the most disgustingly shit-eating grin she'd ever seen in her entire life.

"I- Just how many bras have you taken off in your life?!", she raised her voice accusingly, becoming genuinely perplexed at his expertise.

"Not as many as you'd think", he replied, unperturbed, "In fact, at this particular point in time, my 'removed bras' count is exactly one".

Seeing her flabbergasted expression, he continued as suavely as one could after admitting to, by deduction, being a virgin, "I guess you could say I've been blessed with _exceptionally_ _agile_ fingers".

"You're so full of shit."

"Let's not get sidetracked", he laughed, placing his fingers on the pads of her bra.

A defeated sigh left her lips and she relaxed, letting the garment slide down her arms, exposing her round breasts. They were average-sized, at best, and used to be one of her many sources of insecurity. Before, and a little after she started leading the superhero life, she still had the time and ease in her life to believe that it was something worthy of getting worked up about. Right now? She couldn't care less.

Judging by the dreamy gaze and huge goofy smile that she was being given, she made the right call with that one. One of Dick's palms went up and cupped her left breast. As he slowly and gently fondled the ripe flesh, Artemis felt her breath becoming heavier and her heartbeat quickening. Surprised when he brought his other hand up to her chin and led her into another kiss, this time savoring it much more thoroughly and caressing her lips with the wet softness of his tongue, she almost intuitively found the erection that had been mercilessly ignored up to now. Her hand slid inbetween his (already undone) jeans and underwear – the heat radiating from his member startled her, and she nearly gasped when she felt just how hard it was. Giving it a few experimental strokes through the fabric, she waited for his reactions with curiosity; he was naturally chatty, so she hoped that would carry onto his bed behavior.

Not disappointed in the slightest when his small groan vibrated in her mouth, she was ready to reduce the amount of clothing dividing her palm and his hard-on to nothing – but her objective became blurry when his thumb's circular movements focused on her nipple. She broke away with a spontaneous whimper escaping her lips as her stomach flipped – how could this feel so nice? It was similiar to how non-padded textile would irritate the tender buds, in that she could distinctly feel the discomfort and itching. It was different, however, in how right now, both these sensations appeared to fuse with sheer, unadulterated pleasure and created a mix that caused her back to arc and her hips to shuffle involuntarily.

To her relief, though, Dick appeared to be as mesmerized by her sudden reaction as she was. Even though she didn't believe him when he claimed to never have been in a similiar situation with a girl, his expression clearly read: _I have a very vague idea of what I'm doing, so I'm glad you're enjoying it_. So he wasn't _really_ knowledgeable, just respectably observant and in a position where he wasn't reluctant to act on his instincts. Well, the last one was a no-brainer; reluctance and Dick Grayson were very distant relatives that only ever saw each other on accident.

Without saying a word, he lowered his head to cater to her other breast; though all she could see was a mess of jet black hair, she felt his lips brush against the erect nipple. Continuing his work on the other one, his tongue glided against his new target, slowly transitioning into twirling motions around the most receptive spot. Artemis hardly noticed that her facial muscles contracted every time he put pressure on the bundle of nerves, but the compulsory trembles between her legs and the characteristic tingling were very clear. The short, low noises she let out every so often were interrupted when she felt a suction – oddly, even though the sensation was much sharper than before and she could identify a dull ache (or was it an itch?) within it, it caused her to moan louder and her body to react accordingly.

Instantly, she focused on suppressing her vocal feedback. As a result, she'd forgotten about the organ that she was still clutching in her hand, applying the force that the pleasure-induced twitch of her muscles generated right onto it. Realizing her accidental action, she was about to apologize for hurting him, but the grunt that resonated within his throat was far from pained-sounding.

Dick paused, pulling away from her and locking her grey orbs with his half-lidded gaze. "More of that, please", he squeezed her breasts softly for emphasis and Artemis couldn't help noticing how strangely enjoyable it was to feel his firm, dry fingers (she knew he worked out, but should a teenager's hands really be that calloused?) on the nipple he just kissed, "The thing really isn't as fragile as you think".

As her mind cleared out, she retorted, "I might have a better idea".

Curiosity. "Yeah?". Mild disbelief.

Instead of telling him, she decided to show him. In a quick move, she slid down onto the floor from the straddle she'd put him into, urging him to follow by pushing his legs towards her new position. He obliged, now sitting properly against the backrest as she knelt in front of him. Very curious for his reaction, she glanced at his face briefly – he knew what was coming up and the surprise (maybe even shock?) he had written across his expression was extremely satisfying to watch. She tugged at his jeans slightly and he lifted himself a little bit to pull them down comfortably. With his underwear out of the way as well, Artemis was exposed to his erection in full view; of course, she was no stranger to the sight of penises, be it pictures or videos found out of her own curiosity or, out of necessity, in her biology textbook. Looking at them on every other occassion didn't really have an effect on her at all, aside from feeling like they are somehow misplaced and unaesthetic on the human body.

But it was very different when there was a Dick Grayson attached to one. Somehow.

It's not like it suddenly looked like some naturally wired work of art, but rather that she was drawn to it, instead of feeling impartial. She wanted to touch it, taste it and watch him squirm. _Please_ him.

She wrapped her palm around the shaft, noticing how different it was when touched raw – the skin was very smooth and tight around it, but it was as if the inside was rock-hard. There were a couple veins peeking through underneath the skin that she didn't notice at first glance. What didn't change at all was the warmness when she touched it – though she expected it at this point, it still startled her that a body part could become this hot without the direct action of any external factors. She didn't count as one, did she?

"I've never done this before."

"I figured. Don't worry", he smiled reassuredly, "I won't have anyone to compare you to".

"You're an ass", Artemis grimaced, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry. Please don't squash it. In all seriousness, though", he resumed his original train of thought, dropping the amused grin in a heartbeat, "It's really easy. Just grab it with some confidence".

She blinked. "I was thinking of a more... _advanced_ technique", she attempted to clear the misunderstanding up with a suggestive lick of her lips.

Evidently picking up the hint, his eyebrows rose substantially. "Oh... Well, I don't know much about that myself", the excitement in his voice was impossible to miss, try as he might to have played it cool, "So you'll have to experiment yourself. But I'll keep you updated on what does the trick".

"I bet", she replied, beginning to stroke his cock slowly with a firm grip.

"Just keep your teeth out of the way."

"No worries... I don't hate you _that_ much", the tip was already coated with a respectably thick layer of pre-cum, which she gathered in her palm as it slid upwards, spreading it over the shaft with her next movement. Immediately, her motions became smoother.

"I'm in no place to make assumptions...", he watched her closely, a smirk litting his face up, "But I keep thinking... that you might not hate me at all". Artemis snickered.

She looked up at him once more, hoping to find some reassurance. He was wearing an oddly perfect fusion of patience and excitement on his face.

Her eyelids fell and her lips connected with the tip of his cock. The first thing she noticed was the moisture, which was a relatively alien feeling (there weren't a lot of other everyday activities that included smearing slightly gooey substance over one's lips that she could think of at the moment). As she took more of it into her mouth, she was a little surprised at how big it felt – careful not to scrape it with her teeth as instructed, she had to spread her jaw a little more than would be ideal. Almost instinctively, her tongue went around to inspect the invading object – the glans had a vastly different texture from the shaft (which felt like any other largely fat-deprived place of the body). It was softer and more... frail, in a sense. As her tongue swirled around it expermientally, she could distinctly hear a heavy exhale from above.

The taste was exactly what you would expect a piece of flesh to taste like – except for the mild saltiness, Artemis concluded as the seepage blended with her saliva and slid down her gullet with a swallow.

She proceeded slowly until her mouth felt full, but not enough to trigger her gag reflex – at this point, from what she could tell, his cock was about halfway in. The size of it really was a surprise to her – she didn't know whether he was bigger than average, or if that was how it was supposed to be. Regardless, she moved her head back slowly, still easing into the new feeling. As she pulled back, she sucked at the head tentatively until her lips dissociated from it with a 'pop' sound. When she looked up curiously, feeling her tongue soak up the salty flavor as the dense, slippery fluid dissolved inside her mouth, his eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw pushed forward a little – he was biting his lips inside of his mouth (or at least she assumed so).

When he noticed the archer holding her gaze, his expression relaxed. The way he was looking at her filled her with somewhat conflicting emotions. His face was so... gentle and... caring...?

With the sky-blue eyes beaming as vividly as the dark lighting allowed them to, his mouth curled up into something of a small smile and a faint blush spread across his cheeks, she couldn't remember the last time someone looked at her like this. Why was _he_ looking at her like this? Like she wasn't just a friend from school whom he happened to fall into a sexual encounter with? Sure, she realized sex and alcohol made people act more lovey-dovey than they would have liked to and, after all, maybe he really was falling victim to its influence more than he was showing – but the look he was giving her had a tinge of unmistakable sincerity to it.

"Everything okay?"

Artemis had to admit, he was doing pretty well at playing up his mannerisms so they would reflect what _she_ wanted him to feel right until this moment. She could believe his expression being just a little too affectionate, but this quiet, soft, tender voice couldn't have been for real.

He was probably starting to suspect she needed some pointers – though actually, she was fairly confident about what she was doing (it really was a lot more instinctive than she initially suspected).

She returned the smile, suddenly feeling slightly nervous upon realizing that these azure eyes would be watching her like this for the remainder of her ministrations. Well, nervous and a tiny, tiny bit appeased.

"Yeah."

As testimony, she resumed – this time deciding to explore more of the shaft with her lips and tongue. It felt so incredibly smooth as she kissed and licked it, trapping small folds of skin between her plump lips and sucking on them lightly every so often. She made her way up from the base, having the undeniable pleasure of being able to see his chest heaving and his abdomen squirming when she did something that felt especially good. When she shifted her head to the side in order to go at it from a different angle, she could also glance up to watch his expression and the small changes certain things would provoke. Artemis wouldn't have suspected that maintaining eye contact with him as her lips travelled up and down, purposefully avoiding the sensory head, and giving fainter touches the closer she moved towards it, would actually be so natural.

...And, really, it made her feel extremely sexy – a perception she wasn't that well acquainted with, but seemed entirely appropriate to her now.

The archer knew she had full control – which is a thing she liked to have very much. Despite being in a position associated with submissiveness, it was completely up to her how long she would continue teasing him, how much pleasure he got, how quickly or slowly she would bring him to his release.

That was one aspect which, she suspected, helped her get the hang of it so fast.

As fun as keeping the best bits away from him was, she wasn't about to deny him the goods forever. Giving his cock one last lick on the front, right from the base to the tip (which evoked an interesting reaction – he writhed noticeably), her lips encircled it once again. Starting out in a very slow, slightly uneven rhythm, she adjusted to his size and shape so she could move freely. When she was certain she wouldn't accidentally press her teeth against the skin and that her jaw was in a relatively comfortable position, she increased the pace. Sucking seemed especially satisfying when she did it before, so she tried to include that whenever possible.

She couldn't see his face anymore – though she was rather partial to watching his reactions, now she could focus entirely on pleasing him.

Which brought her to the other aspect, and it was a little more tricky.

It wasn't just that she enjoyed having power over people. An important thing to note, the power in this particular case was over Dick Grayson's sexual pleasure. To desire and enjoy having this power meant that she must have, at least to a certain degree, cared about the subject matter. Therefore, if the subject matter resides within her realm of concern, it almost certainly is a source of emotions. If something invokes emotions, they are typically divided into two groups: positive and negative. Now, Dick Grayson was undoubtedly a source of positive emotions – which was why she wasn't using this opportunity to put him into physical or emotional pain, but rather the exact opposite.

He was a source of positive emotions and she enjoyed having the power to act in his best interest. Perfectly understandable.

She could identify with that notion completely, but it didn't exactly capture the entirety of her feelings. Power and control were to her liking, but right now, she was delighted in not only possessing the ability to be of use to him, but also _being_ of use to him. The difference? The former granted her value, added to her self-appreciation and increased her feeling of importance. The latter was strictly personal and originated from her own sentiments – her own, individual inclinations towards Dick Grayson.

Artemis was, for some reason, finding the thought that she was giving him something really, really enjoyable.

Her head was now bobbing at a rather fast pace – her tongue twirled around his girth, sometimes pressing harder at the tip. When she had to break away for a breath, she replaced her lips with a couple lively strokes of her hand. The archer knew she had to keep it up.

His squirms and grunts became more and more frequent, and they served as more than enough of an indication that she was going in the right direction.

Reluctantly, her brain became introduced to the thought that perhaps... perhaps these warm, fuzzy feelings that washed over her every time he spoke, every time he appeared out of nowhere, every time his eyes met hers, weren't caused _exclusively_ by his amiable demeanor...

"Artemis, I'm-"

His cock twitched inside her mouth and briefly, she panicked. It was going to be different than the pre-cum for sure – she hoped dearly she wouldn't gag or flinch.

Then, with the most obscenely lewd groan she'd ever heard escaping a guy's lips, his seed spilled onto her tongue as she kept sucking. Encouraged by his fervent reaction, her lips moved up and down the shaft the last couple times, engulfing him as he finished. Trembling a little as she slowly moved her head back, Dick sighed.

Artemis tasted the byproduct of his climax – it was salty and somewhat bitter, but she'd seen people put nastier things inside their mouths completely of their own volition. The texture was a larger problem, but her judgement was way too cloudy to allow her to be finicky. She swallowed.

The boy above her was such a precious sight all of a sudden – chest heaving, eyes just barely open, he lay sprawled on the couch in his peaceful felicity. Though he was the one who'd just had an orgasm, she felt her own head becoming lighter and a smile spreading on her face just from looking at him. Resisting the urge to squeeze him tightly in a bear hug, she jumped on the sofa next to him. Kneeling so her entire body was turned towards him, she buried her face in his neck, leaving a couple gentle kisses on the skin there and moving up to his cheek. Brushing her lips and nose against his jaw, sensing the delicate scent that could only be smelled on another human, she felt all the affection she'd ever been capable of being released from the corners of her body it'd been hiding in. He was so cute and she was so happy, because she made him like this, and she did it because she... really liked him...

The archer had absolutely no idea what to do with this amount of emotion – she kept pressing her body onto him and caressing his face with her lips.

Silently, he sat still for a couple minutes. When she brought a hand up to his neck, starting to massage it softly, he shuffled. "Wait a sec", he said, pulling his underwear and pants up.

After buttoning up, he turned to face her with such a heartfelt, appreciative expression that she almost missed a breath.

He leaned in. Their lips locked and Artemis felt a strong palm being put over her non-occupied hand, intertwining their fingers – and it seemed like such an intimate gesture to her, even though they've touched each other in far more private areas already. In her mind, however, the hand was reserved for emotional intimacy. So much so that, for a brief moment, she wanted to pull it back – but when the feeling of his thumb stroking the back of her hand was registered within her brain, she melted.

"How was it?", after they parted, she asked the unnecessary question sheepishly, though in actuality she was quite proud of doing so well on her first try.

Dick snorted. "Pretty amazing. But I'm fairly sure you know that".

"It's still nice to hear", she snuggled up to his chest, a smirk gracing her lips.

"Two sentences, no sarcasm. Are you okay? I'm starting to worry here."

"Shut up", she sung in an extremely unfitting chipper voice.

Dick rubbed her back as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. A few moments of silence passed.

"I wanna pay you back, but you're making it difficult with all that cuddling."

Artemis considered the proposal. "Tempting", she replied, "But I'm tired and it would take a while."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Yeah, for another time", she lifted her head, smiling, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Gimme a minute".

"Sure."

She gave him a peck on the lips and started putting on her bra. Jesus, it really felt as if they'd been a couple for a long time.

..._Wait, what?!_ They weren't a couple even right now!

After a moment of beating herself up mentally for producing that thought, with her top now on, she went for the exit. As she was closing the door, she saw Dick reaching for his discarded shirt as well.

* * *

Artemis was making her way back from the bathroom, feeling a little fresher. The light was still spilling into the corridor from downstairs and a few muffled voices could still be heard within the house. 3 AM. Commonly the preferred time for emotional and/or profound conversations at parties heavily besprinkled with alcohol. She couldn't make out a lot from what she heard, but they were most likely talking about college. That was what everyone's mind was on at the time.

As she approached the entrance to the bedroom she and Dick were... occupying, for some reason, she half-expected to not find him there. Vanishing with no explanation seemed like something he would do.

But when she cracked the door open, she was quickly proven wrong. He was still sitting in roughly the same place, fiddling around with his phone. He looked cleaner too – no leftover gel on his hair, which was now entirely ruffled. Apparently, he had somewhat jagged bangs. Artemis couldn't understand why would he want them smoothed back.

"I used the other bathroom here", he explained preemptively, seeing her questioning look.

"There's another bathroom?", she genuinely didn't notice any other room that might have been one – then again, she hadn't been in need of using it for most of the night.

He nodded indifferently, evidently not interested in explaining its location.

She fell onto her side next to him, still keeping a sitting position, but leaning heavily against the backrest. He was hunching with his elbows on his knees, spinning the phone between his fingers. The look on his face was a lot more serious than just twenty minutes ago.

Regardless, Artemis attempted to make contact. She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back a little. He glanced over at her, sighed and leaned against the sofa as he was compelled to. The phone was shoved into his pocket.

Artemis' hand slid down his arm, stopping to squeeze his palm. Though he reciprocated, it was uncharacteristically weak and the gesture did little to wipe the frown off his face.

She wasn't about to ask him what was wrong, because she had a pretty good idea. Maybe it was vain of her to think so, but he did know of her plans to leave Gotham in order to attend university in a different state. Could it have been anything else? Since he simply held her hand in quiet understanding without saying a word, she had little doubt.

They were close. Awfully so, perhaps. It didn't necessarily make a whole lot of sense, but as Artemis learned with time passing, few things did. Apart from how well their sense of humor and sharp wit meshed, there were other things that made their friendship work. There was always something safe, comforting about Dick's presence to her. He teased her a lot, but always within the range of respect. She never got mad at him – he recognized exactly where the line was and balanced on it flawlessly, like an acrobat. Essentially, their relationship was conflictless – aside from minor skirmishes, Artemis couldn't recall ever getting into an honest to God fight with him. No matter how much she lashed out at him for bugging her on a Monday morning, the day after a particularly stressful mission with the team, he never seemed to hold it against her. In fact, he appeared to be perfectly prepared for it nearly every single time. He always seemed to understand.

It baffled her that only now was she noticing how well they've been getting along all this time.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm going to miss you."

Her voice filled the air, but it came out smaller and quieter than she intended it to be.

The archer could see his lips being pressed together harder and wrinkles starting to appear between his eyebrows. He straightened himself in his seat, seemingly thinking hard about something. A few seconds of consternation amounted to his standing up to crouch in front of Artemis and taking her hands into his. The look on his face was distressingly determined, yet the quivering lower lip betrayed his uneasiness.

_He's going to confess to me_, the thought sparked in the back of her mind. _No, no, no..._

Dick averted his gaze for a split second. When he returned it to her face, his lips were still pressed into a straight line, but she could see him smiling at the corners of his eyes.

"No, Artemis", he mouthed slowly, clearly trying for his best theatrical performance (she felt weakness in the joints of her limbs, anticipating some Dick Grayson-esque take on the dreaded three words), "You never miss".

For what felt like ages, Artemis froze. It took a second for the meaning behind his words to sink in, but once it did, she could only sit motionlessly.

If he didn't make such a show out of it, she would've probably shrugged it off as a lame pun on her name. But that's not what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to think long and hard about all the implications hiding in this short, simple sentence.

When she recalled every single thing she couldn't understand about his persona, the deduction process was easy to perform. He knew who she was on the weekends, or whenever the Justice League called. He was the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, Gotham's prestigous investor. He was lean and slender, yet incredibly athletic. He had the same black hair and maturing features. He was intelligent and quick-witted. He loved to tease her. She knew next to nothing about his personal life.

The puzzle pieces formed a more coherent and crisp image with every thought she managed to put together.

"Robin."

The word was barely just a breath, but it beared a sense of relief.

Artemis couldn't feel a thing. While her mind was still gathering scattered fragments of the two identities – Dick Grayson and Robin – and meshing them together, it had already started trying to figure out what attitude to build towards this new character. The space for both her suave classmate and her trustworthy, level-headed teammate faded and a new place materialized in her conciousness.

It made sense. The force that drew her to Dick Grayson was what – or rather, _who_ – he reminded her of. That safety and comfort she felt around him, that trust she'd put into him, seemingly for absolutely no good reason – all of it came together now. She projected the feelings onto Dick Grayson, because he was the more 'human' of the two and not her teammate... at least to her former knowledge. The submerged part of her mind kept hinting at it all the time, but she never bothered to expand on the subject. All in all, it was her own damn fault for being so oblivious. Some remarkably poor detective sense.

The sentiments returned. In a way, she was upset that he didn't tell her sooner, but word given to Batman is exactly that. (Though why he would tell her only know had some logical ground as well – from the rumours she'd heard, he'd been thinking of creating his own vigilante identity).

"Are you mad at me?"

"No... I don't know", Artemis mumbled in reply as her gaze travelled around the room, looking anywhere but his soul-crushingly blue eyes. Her brows furrowed. "Why did you tell me?", her voice shook as she continued after a pause, "I already left the team".

There was a knot that tightened in her stomach and she clenched her teeth, suppressing the wave of emotions that was about to drown her.

"I thought you'd like to know", he answered as softly as ever, "Besides, with that build-up? I couldn't resist".

For a second, Artemis thought she was about to choke on her laughter and tears, but both were stifled before they could be released. Blinking a couple times and hoping he wouldn't notice that her eyes glistened more visibly than usual, she snickered.

Sniffing as the water evaporated from her eyes, she looked up to finally lock gazes with him. "Don't assume I never want to see you again, but I need time to think."

"You don't have a lot of it."

Her expression saddened. "I..."

"It's fine. Sorry", he let go of her hands, standing up and walking a few steps towards the window, "Wanna go to sleep? I'm gonna be getting up early, so I need some".

"...Yeah."

As swiftly and gracefully as expected, he jumped on the couch, shoving his legs behind Artemis and resting his head on the armrest. With the same completely unfazed welcoming smile as earlier tonight, he patted the space next to him. "Come on."

He did have some nerve to keep acting like this and Artemis could have used the other sofa in the room, but what would that do? She wasn't repulsed or furious with him – somewhat confused, yes, but it wasn't anything remotely negative. Spending a couple hours snuggled up to Dick versus lying alone, thinking about leaving Gotham wasn't the toughest decision she ever had to make.

A little reluctant, the archer made herself comfortable, deciding to lie with her back to his face. There was just barely enough space for two people. Which wasn't necessarily a disadvantage – with Dick's hand resting on her side and his palm cupping her shoulder, she felt rather cosy.

Artemis closed her eyes.

What the hell... Today had had been a doozy. She blew her classmate and found out he was her teammate all along. And she was surprisingly calm and collected despite acquiring this knowledge. Perhaps because she wouldn't be living in this city for much longer? Maybe. But something led her to feel that it was more than that.

She slept unusually peacefully that night and, of course, never woke up as her companion snuck out of the room in the morning, planting a kiss on her forehead beforehand.


End file.
